


A shining love in Paris

by D_Leveille



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Fluff, Parallel Universes, Paris (City), Post-Hogwarts, Romance, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 16:04:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17389457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/D_Leveille/pseuds/D_Leveille
Summary: When Viktor Krum is traded to a Paris Quidditch club, he meets up with Fleur Delacour again. An unexpected connection develops between them and they find themselves falling in love. AU.





	A shining love in Paris

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, thanks for checking out my first Delakrum fic! There's kind of a funny story on why I started shipping this couple. I've been playing the Hogwarts Mystery mobile game since last spring and Bill Weasley is my absolute favorite character. Naturally I started shipping my MC with him, and I made a joke that Fleur could marry Viktor in an alternate universe instead. Thus, the idea of this fic was born!
> 
> I decided not to write out their accents like JK Rowling does, so please just imagine them speaking English with their adorable French and Bulgarian accents. Two more chapters are planned, but I may end up writing more ;) I hope you end up loving this rare pair as much as I do!

****

**Lumière**

_December 1999_

***.*.*.*.*.*.***

Viktor Krum arrived at the Paris bistro twenty minutes early. He chose a table near the front, draped his black leather jacket over the chair, and sat down. The front window was decorated with those strings of Muggle fairy lights that are put up around Christmas time. Viktor had always been fond of them – they gave a nice warmth to the dark winter days.

The waiter arrived a moment later. "Un café noir s'il vous plâit," he replied in careful French.

Viktor flipped through his phrasebook while he waited. He had been traded last week to the Phénix Quidditch Club. So here Viktor was, in an unfamiliar city, with unfamiliar teammates, right before the holidays. Naturally, he was a bit depressed about this. The only bright spot was being able to meet up with an old acquaintance.

He was sipping his coffee when Fleur Delacour arrived. She had on a stylish black and white tweed coat, a royal blue beret, and matching scarf. Her pretty face lit up with a smile when she spotted him. He stood up to greet her, bending his head to receive a kiss on each stubbled cheek.

"Viktor! How good it is to see you again! But I don't remember you being so muscular before," she teased, eyes sparkling like sapphires.

He gave her a shy smile. "Ah, well I was still a boy when you saw me last."

Fleur's appearance was relatively unchanged; the only noticeable difference was her shorter hairstyle, which fell a few inches past her shoulders now. She removed her beret and smoothed a hand over her silvery-blonde strands. All eyes were on her as she shed the rest of her outerwear, revealing a white sweater and a short jean skirt.

Viktor had never been affected by her ethereal beauty. Full-blooded Veela were Bulgaria's mascots after all, and that gave him an immunity to their charms. The other male patrons were not so lucky though. Fleur ignored their gaping stares and sat across from him.

"How is your job with the French ministry?" he asked.

"Very well! The International Division is always interesting, and I am able to travel quite often to special events. I enjoy it."

When the waiter stopped by again, Viktor ordered steak frites; Fleur chose the spicy bouillabaisse stew.

"Would you like wine with your meal?" the waiter asked, ogling her.

"Yes, a bottle of bordeaux please," she replied, handing over the menu. The young man dropped it on the floor.

"Excusez-moi," he stammered, hurrying off.

Viktor smirked. "You cause destruction wherever you go."

"I don't do it on purpose!" She let out a sigh. "I often disguise my appearance when I go out, but I couldn't tonight because you would not have recognized me."

That surprised him. Fleur had seemed to love the spotlight during the Triwizard Tournament, but something must have changed since then.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't joke about it when I know how you feel. I hate being bothered during my free time too. That's probably why I stick to Muggle spaces where I'm not recognized."

"You are the first person I've talked to who understands." She smiled. "So tell me about your new team. Do you like everyone?"

"Yes, they're friendly, but I'll miss my old mates," he admitted.

She patted his hand consolingly. "That is only natural. And what do you think of our great city?"

"I've been too busy with practice to do any sightseeing."

"Then I will take you someplace special after we eat. Paris looks magnifique at night." Fleur asked him about his hobbies next.

"I like Muggle motorcycles. I brought one over from Bulgaria, but I can't ride it until I apply for a French license."

"That sounds like fun. Will you take me riding when you do?"

"Sure. I'll loan you a helmet and a leather jacket. Do you have a sturdy pair of boots?"

"No, but I will buy some. Oh, this is so exciting!"

Viktor chuckled at her enthusiasm. There was something child-like about Fleur, but he found it refreshing. "What are some of your interests?"

"I paint watercolors and I love going to the cinema with my little sister, Gabrielle. She is still a student, but I have permission to take her out on the weekends. We like the old black and white films the best."

"I've never seen any."

"Oh, then you must come out with us sometime!"

"I would, but weekends won't work for me because of Quidditch matches."

"Well, how about going to the cinema with me during the week then? We can eat dinner first."

He smiled. "I'd like that."

Their food arrived a minute later. Once the waiter left, Fleur raised her glass and said: "Let us toast to meeting up again."

Viktor clinked his glass with hers and took a sip of red wine. They chatted more about their jobs while they ate. And then Fleur brought up a subject that he rarely ever discussed: past relationships, and why they ended.

"We were together about a year, but we broke up because she kept accusing me of cheating on her – something I did not do by the way," he added. "I have never been unfaithful."

"I know how you feel… my last boyfriend was very insecure as well. I am sick of needy men who only use me as a trophy." A sad expression crossed her face. "Sometimes I think I will never find anyone who truly loves me."

Viktor had the same fear and he told her so. "No one can see past the Quidditch player. I imagine it's the same for you because of your beauty."

Fleur nodded her head. "Yes, our situations are similar."

It was this commonality which allowed him to be honest with her in a way that he had never been with anyone. "Do you ever feel lonely when you're surrounded by other people?"

"Oh, all the time! It is the worst feeling." She smiled at him. "I don't feel lonely right now though."

"Neither do I." And for the first time all week, he felt genuinely happy.

They hadn't really known each other during the Triwizard Tournament, but by the end of dinner, they felt like the closest of friends.

Fleur slipped her arm through his as they left the bistro. She turned down an alleyway and said: "Let's Apparate from here. Close your eyes." After the brief squeezing sensation, their feet landed on solid ground. "Okay, you can open them now."

In front of him stood the Eiffel Tower all lit up in gold lights. "Wow," he breathed.

"Just wait until you see the view!"

They walked through the gardens and up to the ticket counter. Because it was the offseason, the lines for the elevators were not that long.

Fleur was right: the city lights were breathtaking. She pointed out some landmarks and said they would have to see them during the day.

He draped an arm around her shoulders. "I look forward to it."

A warm feeling came over him as he gazed out at Paris with Fleur by his side. Viktor marveled at how unexpected life could be… how someone who seemed so different at first could end up being a kindred spirit.

***.*.***

Fleur opened the Sunday edition of  _Le Monde Magique._  Staring back at her was a large photograph of Viktor holding up the snitch and grinning. His smile reminded her of sunshine breaking through storm clouds; it softened his strong features and made him look quite handsome. She pulled her eyes away from his picture long enough to read the story.

**_A Viktorious Debut_ **

_Viktor Krum stunned the Paris crowd with a spectacular dive to capture the snitch only seventeen minutes into Saturday night's match. Phénix Q.C. acquired the 23-year-old Bulgarian earlier this month in a three for one trade. The club has every expectation of making the playoffs for the first time in years._

_When asked if he would consider signing a long-term contract, Mr. Krum replied: "It's a possibility. Ask me again in a few months."_

_The elite Seeker was seen after the match with 22-year-old fashion model and diplomat, Fleur Delacour. Turn to the entertainment section on page six for the full story._

**. . .**

Fleur knew what she would find, but she flipped to the gossip column anyway. Underneath the headline  ** _"Seeking Romance"_** was a photograph of her riding on the back of Viktor's bike. She nervously scanned the blurb.

_One of society's brightest stars, Miss Fleur Delacour, attended a Phénix Quidditch match last night to cheer on her friend and rival, Mr. Viktor Krum. The two of them met in 1994 while competing in the prestigious Triwizard Tournament._

_Our photographer was lucky enough to capture this cozy shot of Miss Delacour holding onto Mr. Krum as they sped away on his Muggle motorcycle. Could this be a power couple in the making? We certainly hope so!_

**. . .**

Her black cat jumped on the table, obscuring the article from view. She scratched his head. "The press is at it again, Felix… but I won't let them ruin this before it has even begun." He rubbed his chin against her hand, purring.

She had found him on the street last year with tattered ears and an injured leg from a cat fight. The vet patched him up and she brought Felix home with her. He had been her devoted companion ever since.

When he got off the paper, she cut out Viktor's photo and stuck it on the refrigerator. Fleur kept the other article too, but that one went in the back of her journal. She sat down on her bed and started reading through the past few entries. One paragraph in particular made her smile.

' _We have such stimulating conversations about life and literature and music. He always seems interested in what I have to say, and he looks at me with such kindness and respect. The world shines so much brighter when I am with him. I know about infatuation and desire, but what I feel for Viktor is not that… it is something shining and special. Maman always told me that love was an inner light, but I never understood what she meant until now.'_

She held the pink journal against her chest, sighing. Because for the very first time, Fleur was head over heels in love. And oh, how she wanted to tell him! But she wouldn't – not yet. Her heart was a fragile thing; she had to be sure of his feelings before opening herself up.

They continued to meet over the next few weeks. Motorcycle rides were out because of the paparazzi stationed outside, so they Apparated to Muggle establishments instead. This was enough to keep them out of the gossip columns.

They were in Montmartre three days before Christmas – sitting at a table in the Place du Tertre – and sipping hot chocolate. The trees over the square were draped with glittering blue lights.

"I think I'm starting to fall in love with this city," Viktor said in his deep, yet gentle voice.

"I knew you would!"

"But then again, it might just be the lights," he added. "Everything always looks better during Christmas, doesn't it?"

Fleur shook her head. "Paris in spring is even more beautiful. It will capture your heart."

His lips quirked into a smile, but he said nothing.

"Are you excited about going home for the holidays?" she asked.

"Yes. It will be nice to see my family again."

"You miss them, don't you?"

"Not as much as I thought I would – you've been such good company, you see," he replied, brown eyes sparkling.

She beamed at him. "I'm glad you think so. How long will you be in Bulgaria?"

"Until the 28th." He took a sip of hot chocolate. "One of my teammates is having a party at his château on New Year's Eve. Would you like to be my date?"

Her heart skipped a beat. "I'd love to, Viktor."

"Good, because I want to ring in the millennium with you."

Fleur could feel herself blushing. "Shall we go to the Christmas market now?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Sure."

She took his arm as they headed for the Place de Abbesses. The market was filled with charming, chalet-style booths that glowed like beacons in the darkness. As they strolled down the cobblestones, the delicious scents of roasted chestnuts, apple pastries, and spiced sausages called to them. Viktor wanted to try all three, but Fleur only got the pastry.

She finished eating before him. "Wait here, I'll be right back." Fleur went over to a booth selling knitted scarves and chose a red cashmere one for Viktor. He was still sitting on the bench when she returned. Fleur folded the scarf in half and draped it around his neck, securing the ends through the loop. "I never see you wearing one and it's much too cold not to. So here is your Christmas present from me."

A smile illuminated his face. "Thank you. I'll have to find you something too."

Viktor stood up and did something he had never done before: he held out his hand. When Fleur took it, an electric zing passed through her body. His palm was slightly calloused from Quidditch, but it was so warm, and it enveloped hers completely.

They stopped at a jewelry booth a short time later.

"Do you like this, Fleur?" he asked, pointing out a delicate silver necklace with a tiny sapphire flower.

"Yes, it's very pretty."

Viktor told the lady in the booth that he wanted to buy it.

"You've chosen well, young man. A forget-me-not symbolizes a true and lasting love."

"Un amour vrai?" he repeated.

"Oui, c'est très romantique."

Fleur was mortified. They were not even a couple yet! But Viktor didn't seem discomposed at all. Perhaps he hadn't understood the comment?  _Yes, that must be it,_  she thought, relaxing.

He paid for the necklace and wished the lady a 'Joyeux Noël.'

"I need to get some presents for my family," Viktor said as they navigated their way through the crowd.

"So do I," she agreed.

They managed to find plenty of nice things. When the two of them left an hour later, he escorted her home using side-along Apparition.

"Would you like to come in? If you're hungry, I could make you an omelette."

"I appreciate the offer, but I'm still rather full." He met her gaze. "Will you ask me again another time?"

The hopeful longing in his eyes made her heart race. "Yes."

Viktor smiled before looking away. He searched through his bags and pulled out a red velvet box. "Merry Christmas, Fleur."

She gladly accepted his present. "Merci, Viktor."

"My pleasure. What did that lady call the flower again?"

"Ne m'oublie pas." She slipped the box into her coat pocket. "It means 'forget-me-not' in English."

"Ah, okay. I thought she called it ' _true love._ '"

Heat rushed to her face. "No… but that is the flower's meaning."

"Oh!" He glanced away, clearly flustered. "I didn't know anything about it. I mean, I chose the necklace because of your name and because the color reminded me of your eyes," he rambled. "I'll understand if you don't want it anymore."

"But of course I want it!" Fleur touched his arm so that he would look at her again. "I love the necklace, Viktor." But what she was trying to convey was how much she loved  _him._

He enfolded her in his arms. "I'm glad," he murmured. His leather jacket smelled faintly of roasted chestnuts.

She looked up at him. "I'll miss you when you're gone."

"I'll miss you too." He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. "See you a week from today."

"Okay," she breathed. "Goodnight."

Viktor let go of her and picked up his shopping bags. "Goodnight, Fleur." And with one last shy smile, he Disapparated.

 _He loves me… I know he does!_  She entered her apartment and leaned against the door, giddy with happiness. Fleur didn't even notice Felix until he announced his presence with a loud mew.

"Bonsoir, mon chou." She scooped him up and kissed him on his little black nose. He rubbed his face against hers affectionately. Felix might appear tough with his notched ears, but he was an absolute sweetheart.  _Just like someone else I know,_  she thought, smiling.

***.*.***

The moonlight bleached the stone of the turreted château nearly the same shimmery white as the freshly fallen snow.

"Oh, it's so charming!" It was a bit too large and ostentatious for his taste, but even Viktor had to admit how beautiful it was. "My feet will get wet though," Fleur said, lifting up the hem of her long skirt. She was wearing open-toed heels that were in no way suitable for the snowy drive.

"I'll have to carry you then. Put your arms round my neck," he said, bending down. Her pale arms emerged from her velvet cape, and once she had them secured, he swept her up as though she were a bride. Fleur's giggle sounded like the tinkling of bells. "Are you comfortable?" he asked, smiling.

"Yes. Thank you, Prince Viktor."

That only made his smile widen. Someone as awkward as him, a prince? Fleur was certainly a princess though, and perhaps she was the one who brought out his chivalric side.

"Am I heavy?" she asked playfully.

"You, ma chèrie, are a feather."

She gazed at him, starry-eyed. His breath hitched. No one had ever looked at him with such devotion before. Viktor found it a bit overwhelming, but it filled him with happiness too. Over the past month, Fleur Delacour had found a way inside his guarded heart – transforming his once dull and lonely life into something remarkable and shining.

He cleared his throat. "Here we are," he said, lowering her gently to the ground.

She straightened her clothing before they walked up the front steps. Viktor used the lion head knocker and the door creaked open on its own, revealing a marbled entranceway. Directly in front of them stood a dramatic staircase. He was looking up at the high ceiling when he heard a squeaky voice to his right.

"Welcome, monsieur! Welcome, mademoiselle!" He turned his head and saw a house elf dart out of a doorway. "May I take your outerwear please?"

The coat and cape were taller than the elf, so Viktor said: "Is the cloakroom through there? We can take them ourselves."

"But Praline was told to take them, monsieur," she stammered.

He gave her a reassuring smile. "Don't worry – we don't mind."

"Thank you! Monsieur is most kind."

They went into the small cloakroom.

"That was rather nice of you," Fleur commented as she unclasped her cape.

"Well, I used to know a girl who was passionate about house elf rights," he replied. "I suppose it's always stayed with me."

She raised a pale eyebrow. "Oh, and who was this?"

"Harry Potter's friend, Hermione Granger."

"Ah, yes, I remember her! She was in the lake with my sister Gabrielle."

"That's right." Now that Fleur's cape was off, he could see that her sleek, beaded dress was of the palest blue-gray. Around her throat hung the forget-me-not necklace. "You look stunning."

She beamed at him. "And you look most handsome."

He had shaved the stubble from his face and styled his hair neatly off his forehead for the occasion. But even if he cleaned up nicely, Viktor knew that he was not particularly good looking.

"Thank you for the compliment, but I can hardly be called handsome with this nose."

"It is distinguished, like a Roman statue. And if I say you are handsome, it must be so because I never lie," she insisted.

Viktor bent to kiss her rose-petal cheek. "You are very sweet."

When they emerged from the cloakroom, Praline led them down a hallway and towards the sound of loud music. The ballroom was as opulent as he expected – with white marble floors that reflected the blue sky painted on the ceiling.

Fleur gasped. "It's like being in heaven!" She then went into poetic raptures about the chandeliers sparkling in the candlelight and how it reminded her of Beauxbatons Academie.

Adrien Pelletier, the team captain and owner of the château, spotted them from a table near the windows. He jogged over to say hello.

"You have a magnificently beautiful home, Monsieur Pelletier," Fleur complimented.

Adrien raised her hand to his lips. "It isn't nearly as beautiful as you, Miss Delacour."

Viktor rolled his eyes. "You do know that she hears these lame pick-up lines all the time, right?"

She pulled her hand out of his grasp. "Thank you, Monsieur Pelletier, but you needn't bother with these insincere compliments."

"Oh, but I mean every word," he insisted.

"Human beauty cannot be compared to architecture. One is transient, the other endures through the ages. It is foolish to pretend otherwise," she shot back.

Adrien looked both confused and affronted. Viktor turned away to hide his amused smile. His captain recovered quickly by offering them a glass of champagne.

"Thanks, that would be great."

The rest of his teammates were no better with their flirting. Fleur handled it well by delivering clever retorts, but he stepped in when the reserve Keeper asked her to dance.

"Excuse me, but Miss Delacour is my date, and I will be the one dancing with her," he growled in his most surly tone. Viktor's intimidation worked because the rest of the guys backed off as well – returning to the other ladies in the room who had been neglected.

"Thank you for defending me," she said.

He placed a protective arm around her. "I'm sorry about them."

"It's fine, I am used to it."

Viktor frowned. "You shouldn't be. It isn't right how they treat you."

She reached up to touch his face. "No more scowling like a bear. I want you to smile at me tonight." Her tender gesture and words caused an instant change in his expression. "That's better… now dance with me," she said, pulling him towards the center of the room.

A French chanson was playing on the gramophone as they moved closer. Viktor took one of her hands in his and placed the other on her narrow back. Fleur rested her palm over his heart, which was beating a little faster than usual. He closed his eyes, breathing in the intoxicating scent of her floral perfume. Viktor would have been content to hold her this way all night, but they were forced to let go of each other when a faster song came on.

He glanced at Fleur and noticed the soft aura surrounding her. It wasn't a trick of the candlelight either – it was something she could do because of her Veela blood. When he had asked her about it two weeks prior, she had replied:  _"I only shine like this when I am happy."_ And that was when Viktor knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his life making her glow.

***.*.***

"Let's go upstairs to watch the fireworks display," Fleur whispered at twenty to midnight. Everyone else would be going out on the garden terrace, but she wanted to be alone with him.

He gave her a secretive smile. "Okay."

So they snuck away from the ballroom, fetched their outerwear, and climbed the marble staircase up to the second level. They knew their way around because Adrien had taken everyone on a tour just hours before.

"Which is our assigned room again?" Viktor asked as they walked down the carpeted hallway.

"Nine."

Each door had a little golden plaque with a number on it. They found the correct one and opened the door. An overhead light clicked on when they entered the large chamber. Fleur's heart leapt when she saw the elaborate queen-sized bed they were meant to share.

"Hold on, let me transfigure your heels."

Fleur held up her skirt and watched the sparkly shoes turn into motorcycle boots. She grinned at him. "Nice choice."

"Thanks," he said, holding open the balcony door for her.

Her breath plumed out in the cold night air. The clouds from earlier had dispersed, leaving a sky full of twinkling stars. They stood side by side, taking in the snow-covered landscape. The stillness was interrupted with the shrill squeal of a firework. Bursts of blue and gold and red filled the sky. The show lasted about five minutes, and just as they were wondering if that was it, one more went off: a fiery phénix that soared through the air before erupting in a shower of gold sparks. They could hear the distant whoops and cheers of the partygoers below them.

"Happy New Year, Viktor!"

She was about to stand on her tiptoes and kiss him, but he cupped her face in his hands and lowered his mouth to hers. It was sweet and just a bit shy. She was the one who deepened the kiss… who suggested they go back inside… who made the first move by unbuttoning his shirt. As they lay tangled up in each other afterwards, Fleur told him of her love.

His lips brushed her temple. "I love you too," he murmured, wrapping his muscular arms around her.

She had never felt such safety or belonging until this moment. And Fleur knew, without a doubt, that she was truly loved in return.

_\----------_

_Closing note: I posted some Delakrum aesthetics and a few reference pics of the places mentioned in this chapter on my **[livejournal](https://d-leveille.livejournal.com/)**_

_Thanks for reading & please leave a short comment to let me know what you think!_


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